The 12 Gifts
by RockDiva
Summary: A holiday story revolving around the zaniest family of the future. When strange gifts keep arriving from a mysterious giver, things go from the ordinary wacky to an entire holiday season full of wackiness for the Robinsons.
1. What's A Partridge? What's A Pear Tree?

**A/N - **This is the start of a holiday fanfic for MTR. Basically, it's based on the song The 12 Days of Christmas, and was inspired when I heard the zany Relient K version. Only other notes is I borrowed some lyrics from that version, and the whole B-I-L thing is from Kim Possible. Other than that I can't think of anything. Hope this helps everyone get into the holiday spirit : ) I'll post another chapter tomorrow to make up for the week of lost time that I'll have when I'm not updating this coming week. Also, the chapters are meant to be short. It helps me since I'll probably be writing a lot of Christmas oneshots also this month XD Enjoy.

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Chapter 1

Wilbur woke up to another chilly morning, hating that he had to get out of bed and leave the warmth of his sheet and comforter. As he placed his bare feet to the cold floor, he looked out through his gigantic floor to ceiling window and saw that there was already a thin layer of snow on the ground and that it was still flurrying ever so lightly. "Thermal floor on," he said with a yawn and a stretch and felt the floor warm instantly under his feet. He lagged as he got dressed but eventually was ready to go to breakfast. However, on his way to the dining room, he stopped and saw that his family was gathered in the foyer around what appeared to be a tree. "What's going on?"

"Hey, kiddo, look at what I got," Grandpa Bud motioned to Wilbur who neared and saw that it was in fact a tree, a rather grown tree for that matter, at least six feet tall. Hanging on one of the branches was a very elegant cage containing one small bird. "It's a partridge in a pear tree."

"What's a partridge?" a few of them asked simultaneously.

"What's a pear tree!?" Wilbur asked more boisterously. "I mean, seriously, who knew pears came from…trees. I thought they came from gardens or cans or something like that."

"I used to have one of these things when I was a young whippersnapper. And every year my mom would make us the most wonderful pear deserts."

"I remember that," Fritz spoke up timidly. "Vaguely that is. I was only about three or four at the time."

"It's about time you remembered something," Petunia followed in her usual manner.

"Do you remember, dear?" Billie asked her husband, Joe, who only responded in shaking his head no.

"I think we moved from the house where we had the tree planted long before Joe was even thought of," Bud answered, acknowledging the age gap between the three brothers.

"Okay, so now that we've established that it's a partridge in a pear tree," Wilbur decided to take charge again, "where did it come from and what exactly are we supposed to do with it?"

"Well, the card says 'From Your True Love' but your grandma says she didn't have anything to do with it," Bud replied.

"That's right, I didn't. Bud never even told me about the pear tree, and if he had, I plum forgot about it," Lucille said.

"Maybe they sent it to the wrong family," Franny considered allowed. "I know the card says to Bud Robinson, but perhaps there's another Bud Robinson."

"I suppose that that's possible," Cornelius responded to his wife's idea. "After all, it is a common name. But we can't really return to sender. I'll contact the post office and see if they can give us any more information on the matter. In the meantime, this thing can't very well stay in the foyer, especially since we've already got the Christmas tree in here, so could someone give me a hand in taking it outside where a tree this size belongs?"

"You've got it b-i-l," Art spoke up immediately.

"Wait, who's b-i-l?" Wilbur asked in confusion.

"Why your dad is of course, and me, and Gaston, well, Gaston is to your father, not me," Art said in what might as well have been riddles.

"I'm still confused."

"It's an acronym for brother-in-law," Cornelius answered.

"That's right. Our uncle and our dad used to say it all the time to one another," Franny filled in some blanks.

"Great…another weird family tradition," Wilbur rolled his eyes and walked towards the dining room to wait for breakfast.

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"What's going on now?" Wilbur said coming, more like running, home from the last day of school before Christmas break. He saw some of his family in the yard toiling over planting the pear tree. They had shoveled a bunch of snow away from a designated spot, and now were digging through the muddy ground.

"It turns out that there was no mistake in the recipient of this tree," Cornelius said as he put down his shovel and moved his frozen fingers a little to get blood pumping back into them. "The guy at the post office said that the sender was very clear on the matter and that they wished to remain anonymous. He also said not to come back asking anymore questions no matter how bizarre things get, whatever that meant."

"Well, if he knew anything, he should already know that things are bizarre enough around here as it is. I mean, come on guys, planting a tree in the middle of winter!?"

"You can join us if you like, sweetie," Franny offered.

"Alright!" Wilbur responded excitedly, revealing that he had wanted to join in from the get go. "Wait, where's the bird?"

"Your grandpa and grandma are in the house finding a spot for it. We couldn't leave it out here in the cold," Cornelius answered his son.

"In my country we eat partridges," Billie chimed in. "Tasty little pheasants."

"Yeah, let's eat it!" Petunia screeched.

"We can't eat it," Laszlo shuddered at his mom's suggestion.

"I am so not eating it. The only birds I eat are chicken…and only chickens I haven't seen alive first," Tallulah added.

"Pheasants are actually very good," Billie chimed in again. "Me and your Uncle Joe had pheasant at our wedding."

"That _was _some good bird," Fritz said, recalling the taste.

"Dad!" Laszlo and Tallulah exclaimed simultaneously.

"Honey, you might want to do something before Art and Gaston gets involved and turn this into a real argu…" Franny started but was interrupted by the sound of Art and Gaston adding their two cents. "…too late."

"No it isn't," Cornelius promised. "Alright everyone, there will be no eating the partridge. I highly doubt dad would like the idea of us eating his gift so that's the end of it okay?"

"Are you sure you don't want to eat it?" Wilbur asked mischievously.

"_Wilbur_…" Cornelius warned him to stop, bringing the discussion to a complete end.


	2. Is It A Turtle Or A Dove?

**A/N - **Alright, time for the second gift. This one was really hard to decide on (who would recieve the gift that is) but thanks to Robin (doodlegirll) for helping me figure some of the gifts out : ) This one, admittedly, is just plain awkward on many levels. I also, just really wanted to get this chapter over with so it might seemed a little rushed. Sorry 'bout that. Also, I hope that no one loses interest in this story overall because I make a plug for one of my MTR ships...yep, Tallulah and Carl. But I promise for those who aren't fans, it's pretty quick and painless and is really only played up for comedic purposes. Another note, I could really have gone on and on with this chapter despite my wanting to get it over with. Reasons: I could have easily made it over sappy with like the wedding and reception and whatnot, but I felt that it just didn't seem in step with the rest of the story and would maybe even detract. Of course, it makes me want to write a separate oneshot...almost. Okay, enough blabbing or this a/n will get longer than the chapter itself!

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Chapter 2

More snow had fallen but the cold air couldn't be felt inside the warmth of Wilbur's bedroom. He cracked his eyes slightly, saw that it was already nearing 11 a.m. He then rolled over and closed his eyes again. Suddenly, he opened them again. He shot up, rubbed his eyes a little and looked around him curiously. He looked back at the clock, "The clock says 11 but it doesn't _sound_ like 11," Wilbur said to himself suspiciously. Usually, he awoke to the sound of Gaston's meatball cannon, Billie's trains, Tallulah and Laszlo's bickering, Petunia's screeching, the works, but not this Saturday morning. The quiet was almost deafening. He quickly jumped out of bed, got dressed and ran out of his room. In his hurry, he passed right by a few of his family members in the kitchen. However, he skidded to a stop and did a double take. Was that his mom and grandma all dressed up and his dad and Carl in tuxedos? He hurried back over to them. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

"Sweetie, why aren't you dressed?" Franny asked in a tone that didn't seem happy.

"Oh no!" Cornelius suddenly gasped. "In all the rush I forgot to wake him up."

"What?!" Franny asked with sudden panic. "Well, it doesn't give him much time to get ready. Wilbur, hurry up and put on one of your suits and then I'll gel your hair back."

"Wait! Suits, hair gel? What's going on!?" Wilbur couldn't take it anymore and demanded an answer.

Franny opened her mouth to explain, but was interrupted by Billie. "I went to check up on everything and Tallulah says that there's a problem with the dress."

"Oh my…" Lucille said worriedly. "Let me see what I can do," she offered, following Billie as they left.

"I'll be there in a minute to help too," Franny called after them.

"Whoa! Wait? Tallulah…dress?" Wilbur looked around at the tuxedos, his eyes stopping on Carl. "Is this a wedding? Carl, are you and Tallulah finally getting married!? I mean, it's about time you two woke up and smelled grandma's coffee patches! Wait…what am I saying? This is just plain weird," Wilbur finished with a face that showed how wigged out he was by the whole idea.

Carl suddenly looked around uncomfortably, obviously embarrassed. Cornelius, who had been taking a drink from a glass of water, suddenly spewed the liquid in his mouth all over Franny's face. "Cornelius Robinson, can't you contain yourself?" Franny asked, more than just a little upset by the sudden shower.

"I'm sorry," he choked out with a laugh. "But Wilbur's…"

"I don't care what Wilbur says."

"No, you don't understand. His face…" Cornelius stopped, realizing Franny's face meant that no explanation would suffice for what had happened. "You're right. Now's not the time."

"Now, you can explain to your son what's going on while I go help Tallulah…and _fix my makeup_," Franny's emphasis proved that her patience with her husband was wearing thin.

"Here," Carl offered her a towel shyly, glad that the topic about him and Tallulah getting married wasn't being pursued any further at the moment.

"Thank you," Franny thanked him, took the towel, and left. Her heels were clicking furiously against the marble floors as she went.

"Well, that couldn't have gotten any worse," Cornelius sighed with relief that his wife was away for now.

"Sure it could have, dad," Wilbur wasn't helping matters any.

"Not funny, Wilbur. You're really the one who got me into that you know. Going on about Tallulah and Carl and then making that hilarious face," he accused with a point of his finger.

"What? I was serious. Are they?"

"Of course not," Carl finally spoke up.

"Well, then who's Tallulah marrying?"

"What!? Tallulah's not marrying anyone!" Carl surprised them both with the sudden rise of his voice. "Uh, I mean, Tallulah's not marrying anyone…is she?"

Cornelius just laughed again. "This day is getting stranger by the second. Listen, Wilbur, when Billie said Tallulah said that there's something wrong with the dress, she didn't mean her dress. She meant your aunt Petunia's dress."

"Wait, huh?" Wilbur was even more confused than he had been before.

"It's a long story…one you would know if you hadn't slept in and missed breakfast. But it's okay," Cornelius continued. "This morning Fritz and Petunia got a mysterious Christmas present, kind of like your grandpa did yesterday. Again, all it said was 'From Your True Love.' They got two turtle doves."

"Two turtle doves? Uh-huh…and that explains this all because…"

"Well, it's odd because apparently your aunt Petunia loves turtle doves. She had a pair as pets when she was a very young puppet and…"

"A young puppet?" Wilbur thought hard for a second and then shuddered. "You know what; some mysteries are best not explained. Continue."

"Yes, I'd like to. Well, your uncle and aunt also had turtle doves at their wedding. They simultaneously set a pair free apparently. So, when your aunt saw the turtle doves, it brought out the sensitive side of her that we don't see very often. The next thing you know, they come into breakfast spouting how they want to renew their vows as soon as possible. And then your grandma made a few phone calls and voila, it's all going to happen in about a couple of hours. There'll even be a reception here afterwards for all of the guests that managed to make it on such short notice."

"This is all too much," Wilbur said incredulously, one eyebrow raised. "I mean, couldn't they have at least waited until tomorrow? And aunt Petunia has a sensitive side…over turtle doves? This is just too much! Even for this family. I mean, what's the big deal about turtle doves that makes a wom-uh-puppet want to renew her vows? Who cares if she had some as pets."

"Actually," Carl spoke up, "there's a logical explanation really."

"Oh really? Well, I definitely don't see it. All I see is a illogical, spur of the moment mess."

"And you should know," Cornelius took a sarcastic stab at his son, reminding him of all of the times Wilbur hadn't really thought things through.

"Don't you know that turtle doves are the symbol of true love? " Carl asked, as if it were the most common knowledge there was. "Turtle doves create strong pair bonds. They never leave one another's side. They mate for life."

"Okay, I get the point. But why on earth would anyone have had the sudden urge to send uncle Fritz and aunt Petunia something that symbolizes true love? Whoever it was must have never actually been in the room with them for more than ten minutes. As for never separated…no, I'm not even going to go there," Wilbur shuddered again.

The sight of it brought back memories to Cornelius of when he had first learned that he would have an uncle married to a puppet. "Despite what it may seem like at times, your uncle and aunt do love each other. They're still together aren't they? And this is a nice change of pace so please, just let them enjoy this new spark of unconditional love while it lasts."

"Alright. I don't understand it, but I'll go along." Wilbur left to go change, but added under his breath. "I can't wait to see what spontaneous gift comes next."

"Well, I'm glad that's handled," Cornelius gave another sigh of relief. "Actually, don't tell Wilbur, but I'm just going along with it too."

"I think everyone's just going along with it," Carl assured.

"Mainly to keep Petunia happy," Cornelius slightly laughed, but it was more truth than a joke. "So…what's this about you and Tallulah?"


	3. Do French Hens Cluck With An Accent?

**A/N - **Well, it's almost Christmas so I better get working on this fanfic! Oh and for sake of the story, I thought that I'd mention that none of the Robinsons know of the song 12 Days of Christmas so basically it kind of doesn't even exist in the story. Indiana Baked Chicken is a ref. to Kentucky Fried Chicken. And again, for sake of this story, Wilbur is not a fan of eggs. Don't know why, he just isn't. And Art being a fan of eggs and chicken along with his nickname is a reference to Adam West voicing Ace in _Chicken Little_. Lastly, my apologies to anyone who is a vegetarian!

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Chapter 3

Wilbur walked into the dining room in his usual confident stride. He was the first one to arrive except for Carl who was busy setting out plates and cups and other items. "Good morning, Carl. Sunday breakfast again and all is right with the world."

Carl stopped what he was doing and looked at the thirteen year old oddly. "And just why are you so happy this morning? You didn't swipe another one of your dad's prototypes again did you?! Because if you did, I'm going to…"

"Relax, Carl. It's nothing like that. Can't I just be happy that it's finally my turn again to have what I want for Sunday breakfast? I can finally have waffles again!" Wilbur said enthusiastically.

"Oh…uh…I…" Carl began fumbling for words and set to working faster at setting the table.

"Carl, what do you know that I don't?" Wilbur eyed his robot pal suspiciously.

"Come on, Wilbur. We don't have time before breakfast to discuss the things that I know that you don't," Carl faked a laugh, refusing to make eye contact with Wilbur.

"Ha ha. You know what I mean. If you don't tell me, I'll…" Wilbur didn't even have to finish a threat for Carl to crack.

"You were skipped! Okay!? Are you happy now!?"

"What do you mean I was skipped?" Wilbur raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side.

"I mean, somehow you were skipped and your father told Lefty to make eggs a plenty for breakfast," Carl answered nervously, afraid of how his 'little buddy' would respond.

"He did what!? Dad knew it was my turn. I've been waiting for this since…wait! Did you say eggs? Dad knows I hate eggs. And since when does he love eggs so much? It's always Art that wants eggs," Wilbur went on and on, the thought of eggs already leaving a horrible taste in his mouth.

"Well, it's funny you should mention Art. He's kind of the reason why we're having eggs for breakfast this morning. And by the looks of things, eggs will probably become a permanent part of the daily breakfast menu," Carl tried to explain.

"If you tell me that there was another stupid gift, I'll…" Wilbur was interrupted by a highly unusual sound outside in the hallway. _Bawk, bawk, bawk_. "What on earth was that?" Wilbur left, much to Carl's relief, and followed the noise until he saw three hens and beside them was a basket of eggs that Wilbur could only assume they had produced. He shifted his eyes here and there quickly and believing he was alone, grabbed the basket as fast as he could. However, as he started to move slowly away from the three hens, a long tentacle reached out and grabbed the basket out of Wilbur's hands. "Hey! What's the big idea?" Wilbur looked at Lefty, definitely annoyed by the squid-like butler's action.

"MMMMMM," Lefty grunted in response, not understandable to the untrained ear.

"What do you mean you need them to make the rest of the omelets?" Wilbur demanded an answer.

"MMMMMM," Lefty responded again and turned and headed back to the kitchen.

"This is just great," Wilbur rolled his eyes, and they rested on the hens. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and his mouth twisted into a mischievous, almost evil, grin. "Here little chickies, come here. I'm not gonna hurt you…" Wilbur grew as close as he could and then pounced on the first hen to grab it. Unfortunately, the chicken got out of his grasp and ran as fast as it could, squawking as it did. The commotion caused the other hens to run around madly as Wilbur chased them around the foyer jumping here and there in attempt to catch at least one of them.

Wilbur noticed one of the hens all alone and he stalked closer and closer but just as he was in mid-pounce, Cornelius' voice could be heard behind him and it didn't sound too happy. "Wilbur! What are you doing?" The loudness scared the hen away and Wilbur landed flat on the marble floor. "I came out of my lab because I heard all of the squawking. Have you been chasing the poor hens around?"

"Well, I…uh…I guess I…" Wilbur fumbled for an explanation.

Cornelius knew all too well that it meant his son was trying to come up with a story that he would believe. "I want the truth…now."

"Okay, okay. I was trying to catch them so that I could get rid of them somehow. I wasn't going to hurt them or anything…I just wanted them to go lay their eggs somewhere else!" Wilbur knew when not to test his father's patience.

"And did you stop and think that what you wanted to do was wrong?" Cornelius asked, bewildered by some of the things his son came up with sometimes.

"Well, no…but I didn't care. I hate eggs and Carl said that we'd be having them every day for now on and so I thought no more chickens, no more eggs. Since when did we have chickens anyway?" Wilbur managed to say everything in one long breath, somewhat hoping that it would make his father too dizzy to comprehend him, but it didn't work.

"They're not your chickens to get rid of, Wilbur. They belong to your uncle Art. They're three grade A hens straight from France."

"Great…more ridiculous gifts. If I ever get my hands on the person sending them, I'll…" Wilbur didn't finish his threat as he noticed his dad was eyeing him in a way that told Wilbur he wasn't too thrilled by his attitude.

"You'll what?"

"Thank him of course!" Wilbur said with a nervous laugh. "But why did it have to be chickens and eggs."

"Probably whoever sent it knows Art likes chickens and loves eggs," Cornelius explained as Art came up behind him.

"That's right, I do!"Art said excitedly. "From the glorious sound of an egg frying in a skillet to the delicious taste of chicken toppings on a pizza…chickens stand alone as the ultimate white meat. Why, I remember clucky, my pet chicken from boyhood. Nana Framagucci gave him to me as a gift when we visited her in Italy. He was my tried and true friend from the early days of summer until the next spring when we finally ate him," there was almost a tear in Art's eye as he recalled the memory.

"You ATE him!?" Wilbur's eyes grew larger than saucers.

"Well, chickens don't make good pets forever, Wilbur, my boy. But I'm sure Clucky understood his purpose and was glad to make a meal for the family who loved him."

Wilbur looked at the chickens and felt queasy feeling creep into the pit of his stomach. "That is by far one of the weirdest things I've ever heard."

"It's okay, son," Cornelius laughed slightly. "Everyone has different tastes and tolerances."

"Breakfast time," Carl called from the dining room and they began making their way towards it.

"Wilbur, did I ever tell you about the time I was the mascot for Indiana Baked Chicken?" Art asked as they walked.

"Uh, no, not that I remember."

"Ah, yes…the best they had ever had. I dressed up in a chicken costume and greeted customers with the best 'bawk' I could conjure up. Why, I even one the best cluck of the year award three years standing. Art 'Buck Cluck' Framagucci is what they called me," Art reminisced fondly.

"I remember that actually," Cornelius commented. "It was your job through high school."

"The second best job next to delivering pizza-y goodness to people everywhere."

"Okay…" Wilbur ducked away and took his seat quickly. However, he was surprised when a mini-Carl brought him a plate of waffles instead of eggs. "Waffles? I'm not complaining but who…"

"I felt bad taking your day to pick breakfast away, Wilbur, so I made sure that you still got your waffles," Art replied kindly.

"Oh…uh, thanks," Wilbur said shyly, suddenly feeling the guilt of what he had tried to do to his uncle's three hens.

"Think nothing of it," Art said with a hearty chuckle. "A little exercise will do them good. Why, I wouldn't doubt if they laid twice the amount of eggs tomorrow they did today.

Wilbur's eyes grew wide in panic as he stared around the table at the mounds and mounds of eggs. "_Great_…"


	4. Why Do Birds Keep Calling?

**A/N - **Only 8 more days til Christmas, so if I do a chapter a day then it'll be done just in time :) This one may seem odd at first because it says black birds...but basically, Calling Birds is just a more fancy name for black birds. At least supposedly. Whoever sends a black bird to their true love must be certifiable :P Other than that, there's a reference to the wonderful Hitchcock :)

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Chapter 4 

_Caw_. _Caw_. The unusual sound caused Wilbur to fumble his chargeball shot. "Great, now I have to work harder to win," Wilbur groaned and tried to concentrate. _Bam_ came a noise about ten minutes later. This time the noise caused Wilbur to fumble the game winning block. "UGH! What is that noise!?" Wilbur turned off his game and threw his glove down on the ground. He stomped out of his room and down the hall. "Someone has got some explaining to do…ah!" Wilbur quickly ducked as Laszlo flew over him, out of control, followed by four blackbirds. "What the…"

"Wilbur, grab a net and help us," Cornelius said. He and the others all had nets and were attempting to wrangle the birds that had been chasing Laszlo around the house for the past ten minutes.

Wilbur grabbed a net. "How did all of these birds get into the house? Did someone leave a window open?" Wilbur asked as he chased after one that flew by.

"No, it's just another one of those confounded gifts," Laszlo said in a huff as he flew over again.

"He's kidding right?" Wilbur looked at his mom who shook her head 'no' in response. "Who sends black birds!? And who were they sent to?"

"That would be me!" Laszlo yelled anxiously.

"This is getting out of control," Wilbur rolled his eyes. "I mean, come on, black birds! What's next?"

"I'd rather not even consider it," Cornelius answered as he finally caught one of the birds.

"Hurry, take it outside!" Franny urged as Art and Gaston helped Cornelius do so.

"Wait a second!" Wilbur shouted as his dad and uncles shut the door quickly. "Leave the door open and then we'll scare them outside!"

"Vwe've already tried that," Billie spoke up. "It vwas no use."

"They seem to have a thing for Laszlo so they'd probably follow him out," Wilbur made another suggestion.

"Yeah, but how would I get back in before they could!? You're not going to leave me out there to fend for myself!" Laszlo protested.

"Oh, relax, Lasz! Wilbur was only making a suggestion," Tallulah scolded.

"And that wasn't all of my suggestion," Wilbur defended. "What if, Laszlo, you fly outside, the rest of us hold up a huge net to catch the rest of the birds and then we'll call animal service or something."

"Uh…why do we have to go outside when we can just set up a huge net in here?" Carl asked the obvious.

"Because there's more room to run, or in Laszlo's case fly, around outside than there is in here," Wilbur answered.

"Good point," Carl shook his head in agreement. "I think it just might work."

"Me too," Tallulah chimed in.

"I say vwe do it," Billie added.

"That's good thinking, Wilbur," Art also threw in his two cents and eventually everyone was speaking up at once.

"Hello! Still flying around for my life here," Laszlo interrupted them.

"Alright," Cornelius nodded. "We'll give Wilbur's idea a try. Someone go find a big enough net. Honey, do you mind calling animal control? Hopefully we can get this to work."

"I sure hope because this is turning into _The Birds_!" Laszlo said in a panicky voice.

"What's that?" Wilbur looked around the room for an answer.

"Oh, it's this ancient movie from before we were born," Tallulah answered. "There's a bunch of birds who attack this town because they're only after one woman. Hey, Lasz, I guess you're the woman!" Tallulah couldn't pass up the chance to tease her brother.

"Ancient? More like classic," Cornelius just shook his head.

"Come on, people!" Laszlo called again even more anxious than before.

--------

"Okay, I've called this family meeting before dinner because I think we need to start refusing the packages from the post office. I don't know who this 'True Love' is but after today, I'm a little worried to see what other presents are in the works," Cornelius explained to the rest of the Robinsons who were present in the dining room, with the exception of Laszlo who was outside with a man from animal control.

"I've just realized something," Wilbur spoke up first. "All we've been getting are birds!"

"What?" a few of the Robinsons looked around at one another questioningly.

"Well, it's true! One partridge. Two turtledoves…"

"Oh no! The turtle doves! I forgot to feed them! If mom comes home from the second honeymoon and they're dead, _I'll_ be dead!" Tallulah suddenly panicked, cutting Wilbur off.

"Don't worry. I went into look at them and noticed they were looking hungry, so I asked Lefty to keep an eye on them and feed them," Franny assured her.

"Phew. Thank you so much," Tallulah was grateful.

"Okay, now that that's over, where was I?" Wilbur started again. "Right. One partridge. Two turtledoves, three hens…"

"French hens," Art corrected.

Wilbur huffed, frustrated in being cut off again. "Fine, three _French_ hens. And now four black birds."

"You know, black birds are also known as calling birds," Lucille added.

"That's great, grandma, but that's not the point. The point is…" Wilbur stopped for a moment. "Hey, wait a minute. It's more than just being birds. There's a pattern! 1, 2, 3, 4! Well, I suppose with the exception that grandpa actually got two gifts."

"Wilbur, you're making excellent points. It's safe to assume that if the pattern continues that tomorrow there will be five gifts and the next day six for however long this goes on, possibly up until Christmas."

"That's twelve whole days!" Gaston did the math for everyone.

"I shudder to think what gift will be given on the twelfth day," Franny thought aloud.

"It'll probably be twelve killer bees or something like that…or worse! Twelve of those stupid singing Christmas trees!"

"Don't push it, mister," Franny looked at her son seriously, not enjoying the tone in his voice.

"So, I want to take a vote," Cornelius took charge of the family meeting again. "If the majority of you don't want your package, then I'll just talk to the head of the post office and have him stop sending them. I'll pay him if I have to. Or if some of you want to take the chance, then I'll just refuse the packages for those of you that don't want them."

"Well, that's a no brainer," Wilbur spoke up first.

"I'm not really a bird person," Tallulah spoke up second, creating a whirlwind of agreement from others in the family that hadn't received a gift yet.

"So, I guess it's unanimous. Tomorrow, I'll…" Cornelius was interrupted as Laszlo entered the dining room, carrying two cages, each containing two of the four black birds. "Laszlo?"

"What are you doing with those things!?" Tallulah asked her brother.

"Well, I'm keeping them for a little while. The animal control man said I could give them to a local bird habitat any time I want. He said they're most likely domesticated and so they won't survive in the wild."

"But why are you keeping them at all?" Wilbur asked in disbelief. "They tried to kill you!"

"No, that problem was solved too. They were just so excited that they fixed their energy on the first person living thing they saw. Kind of like when a baby bird is hatched."

"So now you're attached?" Franny asked sentimentally.

"Yes and no. I'm fascinated is more like it. I really just want to paint them."

"But they're black," Tallulah said skeptically.

"I think that's why. They're so homely looking but so graceful. There's this art in them that I couldn't capture with a million colors if I tried. It's just so simple," Laszlo tried to explain.

"That makes absolutely not sense, Lasz," Tallulah shook her head.

"Vwell, I think it's wonderful for Laszlo to have found the good in his gift despite vwhat had happened. I think I vwill change my vote. I vwant to see vwhat is coming for me if anything," Billie responded to it all.

"Maybe Aunt Billie is right," Franny chimed in after a few minutes of silence. "Laszlo's gift was the first one that none of us could see the good in at first but even now he has. Maybe we should just continue to receive the gifts that are yet to come. At least until something too horrible arrives. So far nothing bad has come from this 'True Love' that I can see."

"Franny's right," Cornelius said. "So far, each present has had some sort of point to them."

"Here here!" Art exclaimed. "Why, I was so inspired by having so many eggs on my hands that I pitched the idea of egg based pizza toppings and Stanley has decided to test it with a focus group!"

"So I guess the gifts, although ridiculous, are being sent for a reason," Cornelius shook his head and smiled at his family. "All in favor of changing your vote…"

"Aye!" everyone agreed, even Wilbur.


	5. 5 Golden Rings, Err, To Rule Them All?

**A/N - **Less than a week til Christmas! I can hardly believe it! Where does time go? Okay, so the next chapter is mostly a selfish indulgence. If you're not a fan of or have never seen any of The Lord of the Rings movies, then you'll probably just think I've flipped my lid. But I just couldn't pass up the chance with something like "five golden rings" and so it's a chance that I took. I promise that the next chapters will be less spoofish and more original and, err, normal. There's also a moment in here that is very loosely inspired by the likes of Heroes, Mutant X, etc. Also, there is another reference to Chris the Singing Christmas Tree. You probably caught the reference in the last chapter. No, I'm not completely crazy. It's just a running gag that Robin (doodlegirll), Stacy (secretwindow1) and myself have involving Wilbur's being completely obsessed with seeing the worst come to the annoying little Christmas decoration. And hey, I don't blame him! Those things are pretty weird :P Anyways, for more on that, you should check out Robin's work cause I think she's got a oneshot all about it coming up soon :) Okay, enough shameless plugs and explanations...on to the story!

* * *

Chapter 5 

"Special delivery for the lovely Lucille Robinson," Wilbur carried a box into the dining room. "Here you go, grandma."

"Thank you, Wilbur. Why, I didn't even expect that I would get one of these packages. I wonder what it could be," Lucille eyed the package, not sure what to do with it.

"There's only one way to find out," Wilbur urged her to open it.

"Oh my!" Lucille gasped as she revealed a box that contained five golden rings. She quickly pushed the box away, stood to her feet and left the dining room quickly.

"What was that all about?" Wilbur asked as everyone looked at one another quite confused.

"Dad? Do you know anything about it?" Cornelius asked Bud.

"I can't say that I do. I don't see how five golden rings would upset Lucille, but I'll be sure to ask her why," Bud said with concern for his wife.

"This isn't like her at all," Billie said as she and Franny exchanged worried glances.

"Maybe it just evoked a memory of some sort," Franny suggested. "After all, these gifts have seemed to evoke something from the gifted."

"Franny has a point. I'm sure mom's okay," he bit his lip, not sure what to think as they finished up their lunch meal.

"I'll just hold onto these for grandma," Wilbur said, taking the five rings for safekeeping. However, they weren't just for safekeeping for long. After lunch, Wilbur found himself just sitting on the stairs, mesmerized by the golden rings that still sat in the box. He had only ventured to barely touch one of them at first but now he stroked one of them. "It's so golden. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. It's my precious."

"Whoa! Wilbur, come back to me, Wilbur," Carl said in a worried voice as he overheard Wilbur's sudden obsessive behavior towards the rings.

"What?" Wilbur looked around with a dazed expression on his face. "What happened?"

"Oh nothing, you just went completely…mad! Nothing to be too concerned about," Carl said sarcastically. "What got into you?"

"I don't know. It's these rings. I can't take my eyes off of them. I have to try them on!" Wilbur took one out as fast as he could.

"Wilbur, first of all…they're _rings_. Since when have you been into man jewelry? Second of all, they're not even yours! And your grandma obviously wasn't too happy by the sight of them, so maybe you should take that as a hint. And third of all, it's like they're turning you into this compulsive monster that has to have them for himself."

"You're overreacting again, Carl," Wilbur said, completely ignoring Carl's comments as he slipped one of the rings onto his index finger.

_Overreacting, heh. One of these days something horrible's going to happen and then he'll wish he had listened to my overreacting_. "Are you satisfied now? You're wearing one. Woohoo. Now just take it off and put it back in the box." _For goodness sake just do what you're told for once in your life_.

Wilbur stared at the robot with wide eyes. He had heard things Carl had been saying but hadn't seen his mouth move. "Carl, what was the last thing you said?"

"Take it off and put it back in the box?" Carl repeated himself.

"Really?" Wilbur looked down at the ring and back at Carl.

_What's running through his brain this time? No, I don't even want to know. _

"Carl, did you just say something?" It happened again.

"No," Carl shook his head. _What, do those rings make people crazier than usual_?

Wilbur was about to protest angrily when it dawned on him that he could read Carl's thoughts. "It must be the rings!" he exclaimed and ran off to test it out on someone else. He ran to find his mom and dad in Franny's music lounge as the frogs were tuning their instruments. He snuck in and hid behind the closest table he could without being seen.

_She has the most beautiful eyes in the world. How did I get so lucky?_ Wilbur recognized the thoughts to be his fathers and stuck his tongue out in disgust.

_I can't wait to give him his Christmas present. He deserves everything in the world for how wonderful he is. _Wilbur stuck his tongue out again when he heard his mom's thoughts and shuddered a little. _Oh, so he wants to play footsies does he? _

"Oh my goodness!" Wilbur stood up, not even caring if anyone saw him.

"Wilbur? Sweetie, is something wrong?" Franny asked when she noticed her son.

"Uh, no, not really. Gotta go!" Wilbur said over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the door.

"You weren't trying to overhear what we got you for Christmas now were you?" Cornelius asked.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Wilbur waved his hand in mock agreement as he left. Once out in the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief. "I just had to know what they were thinking." He opened the door slightly and peeked back in.

"We just had to have a kid," Franny said aloud.

"Oh, come on. You know you love being the mother of a hyperactive teenage boy," Cornelius said with a laugh.

"Not as much as I love being married to his father," Franny said with a smile as they both leaned across the table they were sitting at and shared a kiss.

_Why don't dey respect Frankie's no pda rule. Lousy humans. _

"I'm with Frankie on this one," Wilbur said in response to Frankie's thoughts. "I think I've had enough of this ring for now," Wilbur shut the door, felt a shiver go down his spine and decided to remove the ring. "Hmm…so I wonder if any of the other rings have any powers." Wilbur put on another one of the rings.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came the sound of Lucille's voice.

"Grandma?" Wilbur looked around but Lucille was nowhere in sight.

"Bring the rings to me before you destroy us all," her voice was heard again.

"Okay, I must be going crazy. Maybe it's a guilty conscience. I was afraid it would catch up to me someday," Wilbur shook his head then shrugged his shoulders.

"The rings will drive you crazy if you don't do as I say. You haven't seen fear yet, Wilbur."

"Okay, that's it! Grandma! Where are you!?" Wilbur took off down the hallway and towards the wing of the house that Bud and Lucille occupied. On his way, he passed Bud. "Grandpa! I'm looking for grandma!"

"Well, she was baking cookies but now I think she's just resting in our room. If not, I'd check the mayonnaise jar," Bud answered.

"The mayonnaise jar? Why the mayonnaise jar?" Wilbur asked curiously.

"I don't know. I think I left a pearl earring in there once," Bud said in his usual offbeat manner and then walked on.

"Okay, I'm not even going to ask. I've just got to find grandma."

"You've already found me," Lucille said.

"What are you talking about…ah!" Wilbur spun around and saw Lucille standing right behind him. "Sorry, grandma, you just startled me that's all."

"I know. You have something of great burden that I think you should give to me."

"I don't understand."

Lucille looked around to see if anyone was nearby then looked back at her grandson. "This way," she beckoned and Wilbur followed her to a room that he had never actually seen before although he knew that it existed.

"Is this your lab?" Wilbur asked in amazement. "Why don't you just use dad's lab?"

"Because your father needs all that space to make world changing inventions. I don't want to get in the way," Lucille answered honestly.

"Grandma, you're inventions are great too. I mean, the coffee patch! That helped me stay awake and cram for my math final last year. Without it I wouldn't have passed that class and would have had to do summer school! You definitely improved the world," Wilbur praised.

"Well, I'm glad to be a hero in your eyes," Lucille said in a grandmotherly way. "Now about the rings," her voice changed to a more eerie tone.

"What about them? All I know is that this one here lets me read people's thoughts. And this one…I'm not really sure what this one does?" Wilbur said pointing to the one on his finger. "I didn't have time to find out."

"Take it off, Wilbur!" Lucille cried horribly. "Please, you must listen to me!"

"But why?" Wilbur was in the dark, not sure what to think of his grandmother's weird phobia of the rings.

"Wilbur, those rings have a greater power than any of us can handle. And that one is the most powerful of all! I don't want to see the worst happen to you. Take it off!"

"Power?" Wilbur studied the ring on his hand more carefully, a gleam growing in his eyes as he thought about all of the amazing things that he might be able to do with the rings abilities.

"Nooooooooooo!" Lucille screamed, bringing Wilbur back to reality. He saw the look on his grandma's face and realized that the ring had been trying to possess him. He quickly discarded the ring, breathing heavily as he did. "Oh, thank goodness." Lucille moved closer to her grandson and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Those rings were my Doris's."

"What do you mean?" Wilbur asked in confusion, not seeing the connection.

"I only wanted them to be a help for humanity. You see, I wanted to create several rings that would give certain people with perfect compatibility superpowers. I wanted to create a breed of heroes to save the world when it was in danger. I only meant it for good, but something went wrong. Just like Doris, the rings were too powerful," Lucille sighed. "But when I went to destroy them, it was too late. They had disappeared. All these years I've been haunted by the thought of what would happen should they ever return. And now they have."

"Grandma, don't you see! You have them again! You can destroy them now!" Wilbur exclaimed. He was in no mood for more Doris like villains to have control again.

"You're right. But it was almost too late again. You put them on and they could have wielded you to their power if given the chance," Lucille said seriously.

"I'm sorry, grandma," Wilbur hung his head. This time he really should have listened to Carl.

"I'm sorry too. There's only one way to destroy them and I don't have the capability to do it," Lucille said solemnly, causing Wilbur to look at her with sudden wonder.

"What has to be done to destroy them?" he asked, willing to do whatever he had to make things right again.

"They must be burned," Lucille answered.

"That seems easy enough," Wilbur scoffed.

"But not just any fire will work! It must be a fire created by something just as evil as the rings or they will not melt."

"Okay, now why exactly did you make it that way?" Wilbur raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"It was an error in the formula. It's the same reason why the rings are evil to begin with," Lucille explained.

"I see. Okay, so wood is out of the question. Something evil…" Wilbur snapped his fingers. "I got it! I know just the thing," he grinned a mischievous grin as he thought of the very annoying Christmas decoration that he would use. "Wait, but it's snowing outside. Will a fire even burn?"

"It can, but I have a better idea. There's a wood burning stove down in the basement. I'll go get it set up and you meet me down there with the evil thing you think will melt the rings and the rings themselves."

"Got it!" Wilbur started to hurry off on the mission.

"And, Wilbur, be careful. Don't put the rings on again."

"Don't worry, grandma. I won't," Wilbur promised as he left.

--------

"Where have you been, Wilbur?" Cornelius asked his son as he and Franny saw him.

"Yeah, we haven't seen you since earlier in the lounge and you seemed to be in such a hurry."

"Oh, I was. But it was no big deal," Wilbur lied as he remembered how just an hour before, he and Lucille had successfully destroyed the five golden rings and Chris the Singing Christmas Tree along with them. "I've just been hanging out with grandma all day."

"Oh, Lucille, I wonder what was wrong with those rings," Franny's voice was filled with concern.

"Maybe I'll go talk to her," Cornelius suggested.

"No need," Wilbur spoke up quickly. "Trust me, she's definitely alright now. In fact, I think her words were, 'I'm feeling better than I have in years. Tonight I'll finally sleep easy,'" Wilbur quoted.

"What does she mean by that? Is she okay?" Cornelius' worry grew.

"Dad, relax. Grandma's wonderful. Isn't that right, grandma?"

"That's right. I am," Lucille said with a youthful cheer, startling both Franny and Cornelius. They turned to see Lucille standing behind them. "And don't worry about the rings either. The world is safe again. Come on, Wilbur. How about a game of that chargeball you love so much?"

"You're on!" Wilbur said as they walked off towards his room where the game was set up. Cornelius and Franny exchanged confused glances as they watched them go. "What a day, grandma. But it was actually kind of cool. I just can't wait to see what happens tomorrow."


	6. How Many Eggs Can One Goose Lay?

**A/N - **Okay, this is an absolutely short chapter. In fact, it's so short that I'm almost embarrassed by it! And it's not that I don't like Gaston or anything! It's just that I really didn't know much to write about geese. So, no offense intended towards Gaston fans. And, I didn't mean to write him as like originally heartless or anything. Basically, I just thougt it would be kinda sweet for him to go from this loud "no personal space" kind of character who shoots himself out of canons to this protective kind of character. Basically, I think he's like that really because he almost wimpers in the movie! Anyways, other than that, my huge apology again for it being so short.

* * *

Chapter 6 

_Honk! Honk!_ Wilbur awoke to the sound of geese honking from somewhere in the house. He groaned and sat up slowly. "Great and we're back to birds." He shook his head, sluggishly got up and dressed, and made his way to the foyer. "It seems to me that this is becoming a very annoying daily routine," he said to the rest of his family as he studied the new gift. There were six geese all sitting in a row. "So, who's the recipient this time?" Wilbur asked.

"That would be me," Gaston answered.

"You? Why? Do you have some sentimental attachment towards geese?" Wilbur questioned, cocking his head sideways a little.

"Not that I know of. I wouldn't even feed the geese in the park when I was little."

"Ha Ha! He's right!" Art agreed with a hearty laugh. "Even when he was older there was this one time…"

"Okay!" Gaston cut him off. "I thought we agreed that we'd never speak of that again."

"Alright, alright," Art laughed again and zipped his lips on the matter.

"Okay, so maybe the point of the gift is to help you get over your fear of geese?" Wilbur suggested.

"If so, this is a pretty pointless gift. Why do I need to get over my fear of geese?" Gaston protested.

"I admit it doesn't make too much sense," Cornelius admitted.

"Vwell, that's the least of Gaston's problems," Billie said suddenly.

"Uh oh, Billie's right," Lucille added as she walked over to where Billie had been inspecting the geese more closely. "These geese are all due anytime."

"Due?" Gaston asked in bewilderment. "As in they're going to lay eggs? And those eggs are going to hatch? And then there will be more little geese running around? I'll be a daddy!?"

"Um, not exactly," Franny tried to hold back her laughter towards her brother's sudden outburst. "But yes, that's usually how it works."

"So what am I supposed to do with a bunch of geese and eggs and baby geese?" Gaston threw up his hands dramatically.

"I suppose you take care of them," Franny answered. "Just like any pet, although we both know you were never good with pets."

"I can't help it if pets don't like cannons," Gaston replied without any further explanation. "Can't I just give them to that bird habitat that Laszlo was talking about? I doubt that I'll be able to take care of a flock of geese. I just don't have it in me to be the fatherly type."

"He's right, sis," Art agreed. "He wasn't even the good baby-sitting type when we were younger, remember?"

"I do remember. That's why I think this would be good for him," Franny insisted. "Besides, once they lay, there might be a law against moving them."

"I'm a grown man, and I say that I don't want these geese or their eggs," Gaston said stubbornly.

"Alright, Gaston. If that's how you want it," Cornelius spoke up. "I'll see if I can contact that bird habitat and get them to take them before they start laying their eggs."

"I'd hurry if I were you," Lucille spoke again. "These eggs could come at anytime really so these girls need a nest somewhere warm but not too warm or the embryos won't survive."

"You mean the eggs will…you know?" Gaston asked, his eyes softening a little as he looked at the geese with new concern.

"Yes, they will…you know," Franny answered solemnly.

"We can't let that happen," Gaston said heroically. "We have to set up a proper nesting area for them in case that bird place won't take them."

"Inspired plan, Gaston," Cornelius replied. "I'll get started trying to contact the bird habitat while some of you can get started on building the nest."

"I'll download all the information I can on geese," Carl offered.

"Also inspired!" Cornelius said as he hurried to contact the habitat.

"Okay, people, let's move! Nothing you know what's on my watch," Gaston hurried the others to action.

"And you said you don't have it in you to be the fatherly type," Franny said in playful sarcasm to her older brother.

"Hey, I'm not. But I'm not made of ice either," Gaston defended, but he didn't look his sister directly in the eyes, and Franny just shook her head knowingly as he rushed around trying to figure out what to do first to help the poor geese.

------------

"How are they doing?" Cornelius asked as he entered Gaston's cannon room, which Gaston had selflessly relinquished as a makeshift nesting area for the geese.

"Good, I think," Gaston answered, although he still wasn't much for understanding how to really take care of them.

"Unfortunately, the bird habitat can't take the geese. Unfortunately they're full up for the winter as far as geese and ducks go. The zoo wasn't of much help either," Cornelius sighed.

"It's okay. It wouldn't have mattered anyway," Gaston consoled. "Two of them have already begun laying."

"I see!" Cornelius was amazed by what was taking place in the Robinson house. "I have to say that this has been the most amazing thing to happen yet."

"I don't know," Wilbur tapped his chin in thought. "Yesterday's was pretty amazing."

"What about mom and dad's gift? _That_ was amazing," Laszlo added.

"Yeah, but this is the miracle of life," Cornelius said in a cheesy manner.

"Not only that, but this is Gaston caring for another living thing. Slowing down and being sensitive. Look at how he's given up his beloved canon room," Franny pointed out.

"Bravo, Gaston," everyone cheered.

"You know, the lady that I spoke to said that we can expect about five eggs from each of them," Cornelius said suddenly.

"That'll be 30 little geese running around!" Wilbur exclaimed. "And what about when they start flying! Then what?"

"Maybe I'll teach the little ones to fly using my canon!" Gaston exclaimed suddenly and was followed by a chorus of honking from all six of the geese. "Hey, I think they like the idea!"

"You know," Wilbur added above the loud honks of the geese, "if they keep this up, none of us will ever get any sleep!"


	7. What Do You Call A Swan That Can't Swim?

**A/N - **Thought I'd throw in some references to the video game this time around :) And hopefully Carl isn't in this chapter so much that it detracts from the real giftee (that is so not a word). Basically, I guess that goes for all of the characters. I just felt like there wasn't enough material to completely focus on one and one person only. And although I am a shipper, I tried to keep all dialogue between Carl and Tallulah completely un-shippy. So for those of you who don't like the ship, just imagine them as friends. For those who do like the ship, let your imagination heave ho.

* * *

Chapter 7 

"Thanks for helping me get these boxes, Carl," Wilbur said to the robot as they carried up the several boxes of family albums that Franny liked to pull out every year for the family to look back on.

"No problem, little buddy. That's what I'm here for, to help," Carl said in return.

"Help? Since when?" Wilbur joked.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. I can't help it if sometimes your schemes get so out of control that I can't help you get out of them," Carl spat back, but in more of a sarcastic brotherly tone than anything else. "Um, and not to be rude, little buddy but _what_ is that smell!?"

"What?" Wilbur sniffed the air, and then raised one of his armpits and took a quick sniff. The smell was strong enough that even he couldn't help but make a face in disgust. "Okay, okay. So I need to freshen up. Why did dad have to build you with a smell sensor anyway?"

"Well, if I had known then that I'd have to smell that, believe me; I would have begged him not to!"

"Alright, now who's being the funny one," Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll take a shower," he said as they set the boxes down on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, uh, actually, I forgot to tell you," Carl started but was interrupted by Wilbur's impatience.

"Don't bother. I get it. I stink," Wilbur said as he waved his hand and headed off to clean up.

"But Wilbur!"

"Not now, Carl! If my mom finds out I've waited this long, I'm done for!" Wilbur's step quickened at the thought.

"Well, I can't say I didn't try to warn him," Carl just sighed as he watched Wilbur head around the corner and out of sight.

"What more could Carl have possibly told me," Wilbur mumbled a few moments later as he quickly grabbed his shower gear and headed for the nearest bathroom. He rolled his eyes again as he opened the bathroom door. He laid his stuff down and went over to the bath to start the water running, but as he pulled back the shower curtain a huge swan flapped its wings ferociously. "What the!" Wilbur stepped backwards as fast as he could and away from the birds' wingspan. Without thinking twice, he ran out of the bathroom and down the hall in search of the nearest person he could find, screaming "crazy swan" the entire way.

"Slow down, Wilbur!" Franny heard her son yelling and stepped out into the hall to figure out what the matter was. Wilbur stopped and turned and looked at her timidly. "Now what's this about a crazy swan?"

"There's a crazy swan in the bathroom!" Wilbur said, trying to catch his breath a little.

"A crazy swan in the bathroom?" Franny eyed her son curiously, not sure she should believe his wild story or not. "And exactly how did it get there?"

"How should I know?" Wilbur shrugged defensively. "I was going to take a shower and I pulled back the curtain and there it was!"

"Wilbur, are you absolutely positive that you…" Franny was cut short by the sound of Cornelius running and yelling from their master suite bathroom.

"Crazy swan! Crazy swan!" his cries could be heard coming closer and closer.

Franny looked at her son, who had smug look on his face and his hands around his waist as if to say, "I told you so."

"Crazy swan!" Cornelius stopped, completely out of breath, when he saw his wife and son in the hallway. He placed his hand on Franny's shoulder to steady himself and leaned over choking for air. "Franny, there's a crazy swan in our bathroom," he said between breaths, barely understandable. "How did it get there?"

"How should I know?" Franny echoed her son's previous words of defense.

"Well, it's there. And I'd really like one, to know where it came from and two, to get it out of there as soon as possible," Cornelius composed himself and stood upright again.

"Two swans?" Wilbur thought for a brief moment. "Swans are birds so I bet there are five more of these things around this place somewhere."

"Another gift," Cornelius nodded. "I guess that makes sense. But who for and why are they scattered all over the house with no warning at all?" Cornelius was not entirely pleased with the fact that he had been left in the dark. "I think I need to ask a few questions."

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation," Franny didn't want her husband to lose his cool. He rarely did, but he still could get a little cranky when important matters were kept secret from his attention.

"Mom, with this family, I doubt there's anything logical about it whatsoever," Wilbur remarked, but quickly refrained from making another when his father and mother both shot him a warning glare.

------------

Tallulah tiptoed past some of the family that was already gathering to figure out where the swans had come from. However, she hadn't gone unnoticed. She made it to one of the bathrooms, but as she turned to see if anyone was watching her, she was startled to see Carl standing there with his arms crossed. "Oh, uh, hi, Carl," she said nervously.

"And hello to you, Tallulah, or should I say Miss _Swan_."

"W-what are you talking about?"

"I know the swans were your gift. I saw you hiding them earlier this morning," Carl explained, not buying Tallulah's attempt at innocence.

"You did? But why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, I…hmm…I wanted to find out first. Why are _you_ hiding them without saying anything?" Carl flipped the table.

"I don't know really. I guess, I just didn't want to make a big spectacle out of my gift like my brother did. I wanted to handle it more like Lucille. And I knew that swans need water so I put them in the only place I could think of. But seven swans are _not_ easy to manage!" Tallulah exclaimed.

"I bet. So…why swans? Childhood memory? Emotional attachment? What's the explanation behind the gift?" Carl asked curiously.

"I don't know. I've been thinking about it all day and the closest I can think is that when I was really little my favorite bedtime story was of the ugly duckling that turned into a swan. But it doesn't mean that I would want seven swans of my own!" Tallulah rationalized as she opened the bathroom door to check in on one of the swans, Carl joining her. "But now I'm going to have to go tell the rest of the family so that they can have the bathrooms back."

"For all of our sakes, that might be best because Wilbur really needs to shower," Carl remarked and Tallulah laughed. "Then again…"

"Then again what?" Tallulah's eyes became wide with curiosity.

"I was thinking, maybe we can put them somewhere else before you tell the others," Carl said, still obviously thinking the matter over to himself.

"But where exactly?" Tallulah raised her hands in a questioning manner.

"The water gardens that are part of Art's bubble race maze," Carl answered. "That's much less intrusive and with it being winter, Art hasn't raced the maze at all."

"Carl, that's brilliant! I hadn't even considered that option! I'm sure Art wouldn't mind," Tallulah became excited by the idea and the loudness of her voice and her sudden jumps for joy caused the swan to become active. It began flapping its wings. "And it will definitely be much cozier for the animals then the bathroom. So will you help me?"

Carl eyed the flapping beast nervously, gulped and sighed, "I guess I could help you."

"Thank you!" Tallulah's excitement continued and she turned towards the swan.

"I would have suggested the pool in sub-level three, but I wasn't sure how you would feel about the shark."

------------

"Cornelius, I think I can explain the swan mystery," Laszlo said as he joined the family gathering. "Her name is Tallulah and she has a robot accomplice."

"Tallulah and Carl?" Cornelius asked to make sure he had heard correctly. "But why would they be hiding swans?"

"I don't know, but they're hiding some in the water gardens right now," Laszlo continued.

"As in my bubble race maze water gardens?" Art asked in confusion.

"Art, those are the only water gardens we have," Franny said to her brother. "Now I'm sure that they both have an excellent reason for all of this. Why don't we just go and ask them."

"I agree," Cornelius nodded and led the parade towards the water gardens.

"That's the last of them," Carl said, wearing several feathers from top to bottom.

"Carl, you look so silly!" Tallulah couldn't help but laugh but her laughs were cut short as the others entered the room.

"Tallulah? Carl?" Cornelius asked, but they all stopped and gasped at how beautiful the seven swans looked as they swam together.

"How did they find out?" Tallulah looked at Carl questioningly, but he only shrugged.

"Let's just say, this is payback for saying I was the woman the other day," Laszlo smirked as he passed by.

"Listen, I can explain," Tallulah started. "I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone. I just didn't want to make a scene but I guess I did anyways, huh? I don't know why I got seven swans but they have to swim somewhere and at first I couldn't think of anywhere else but then Carl suggested the gardens and helped me move them here. I'm so sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry," Cornelius laughed. "All of these gifts have thrown us all for a loop. So how did you manage to get all seven geese into different bathrooms by yourself?" Cornelius asked pretty impressed.

"Lefty helped me actually," Tallulah answered.

"Did he turn out looking like Carl!?" Wilbur asked as he pointed and laughed at the still feather covered robot.

Everyone joined in Wilbur's laughter until Cornelius decided enough was enough. "Wilbur, why don't you go help him."

"No thank you!" Carl said immediately. "He's not helping me do anything until he takes a shower," he held his hands to his face.

"The bathroom's free now, so have at it mister," Franny said, placing her hands on her hips and tapping her foot on the floor impatiently until Wilbur trudged out of the room.

"So, is it okay if I keep the swans here, Art?" Tallulah finally asked, bringing the subject back to the gift.

"Absolutely. Why, I won't use this area for my bubble race maze again until the late spring so the swans are free to swim to their content," Art answered graciously.

"Thank you!" Tallulah exclaimed gratefully. She then turned and looked at her seven swans. "They're so beautiful. Now I know why the ugly duckling was such a threat to all of the other ducks," she smiled.

"Reminds me of another little girl vwe used to know," Billie smiled as she placed a hand on her niece's shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Tallulah asked, not understanding her aunt's intention.

"I seem to recall a little girl who thought she vwas the ugliest thing around because her mother vwas a puppet and her dad, eh, not so good looking," Billie answered. "But she grew up to be one of the most beautiful girl's around. Isn't that right everyone?"

Everyone cheered their agreement as Tallulah smiled and blushed a little. "Why don't we help Carl de-feather himself," she said wanting to change the subject. Everyone looked at Carl again and went into another round of laughter.

"Hey! Laughing at Carl without me!?" Wilbur stuck his head back in the door to see what was going on.

"_Shower_…_now_!" Franny warned without even turning to look at him.

"Fine, I'm going…" Wilbur huffed and stomped out.


	8. Eight Maids A Milkin' What?

**A/N - **Another short one as I fear the majority of the rest of the chapters will be since there's not much to write about. Except maybe for the final chapter. This one's simple and to the point of the gift with only a little bit of goofing off to get there in the beginning :P I guess there's not much more to report than that. Except that the premise for this chapter comes from the fact that I've always wondered what the maids were milkin' (cows most likely) because it doesn't say. And if they maids are milkin' there's got to be something for them to milk in the first place!

* * *

Chapter 8 

"Ring my doorbell."

"No ring _my_ doorbell." The familiar sound of Spike and Dimitri could be heard outside.

"Great, sounds like another delivery," Wilbur stopped and shook his head. No one else was around so he decided to answer the door himself. "Hello?" His eyes widened when he saw a woman in a milk maid's outfit. "Can I help you?"

"Hallo! No, I am here to help you. I am here to milk your yak," the woman spoke in a very strong accent that Wilbur thought reminded him of Aunt Billie.

"Yak? We don't have a yak. I think you have the wrong house."

"This is Robinsons?"

"Yes, but…"

"I've come to milk your yak," the maid insisted again and entered the house.

Wilbur shut the door and turned to argue with the lady that they had no yak but the doorbell rang again. Groaning a little, Wilbur turned and opened it again. There before him was yet another woman dressed as a maid. "I've come to milk your yak," she said and entered the house.

This time Wilbur shut the door with more force and turned to the ladies. "Look, I'm telling you, we have no …" the doorbell rang again. "Hold that thought. I forgot there are probably six more of these women on the way. He opened the door and with a huff said, "Let me guess, you're here to milk a yak?" The woman nodded eagerly and he stood aside so that she could pass by. This time, Wilbur just held the door open until, one by one, the entrance area filled with six more, until there was a total of eight, women all dressed as milk maids.

"Wilbur! What on earth is going on here!?" Franny demanded as she passed by and saw her only son surrounded by eight women she had never seen before in her life.

"Don't ask me, mom. Why don't you ask them," Wilbur pointed.

"I'm sorry, but may I help you ladies," Franny asked impatiently.

"Vwe've come to milk your yak," the women said in unison.

"What? What are you talking about?" Franny furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang again. "I'm guessing that would be the yak," Wilbur remarked as he opened the door revealing not one but eight yaks and a delivery man. "Okay, make that yaks."

"Delivery for Billie Robinson," the postal man said in a way that proved he was nervous being near so many large beasts at once. Franny graciously signed for them as fast as her hands could allow. "This family must be insane," the man could be heard saying as he hurried down the drive.

"And you thought _I_ had something to do with it?" Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

"Don't take that tone with me, Wilbur. What's a mother supposed to think when she sees her son surrounded by eight women? Especially women who do _not_ look like maids in any way," Franny said in reference to their natural foreign beauty which also resembled some of Billie's features.

"I guess they are pretty…" Wilbur started but stopped the instant he saw his mother's icy stare. "Never mind. I think I'll go find Aunt Billie," Wilbur took off as fast as he could towards Billie's train room.

"Uh, honey, do you mind explaining why there are eight, what are those, yaks…eight yaks in our house?" Cornelius stopped and asked, them having caught his attention as he was on his way to his lab.

"Apparently, they're all for Billie. The maids too. They're here to milk the yaks," Franny explained with fake politeness.

"Well, that's nice of them. At least a gift finally arrived with a little maintenance plan," Cornelius thought aloud.

"Cornelius, you can't refer to them as maintenance plans. They're people," Franny corrected.

"I simply meant that it's good to have someone to actually handle the gifts instead of us having to figure out how to do it ourselves," Cornelius reiterated.

"I know what you meant," Franny's voice became a little sharper. "Are you saying that you thought I didn't know what you meant? I meant that you should choose your words more carefully and obviously I was right."

"I didn't mean to imply anything. And I certainly don't see how I chose me words incorrectly when I was referring to them," Cornelius straightened his glasses as he spoke, something that sometimes annoyed Franny when they argued.

"Oh, so it's okay to refer to these women as nothing more than "plans" is that it Mr. High and Mighty?"

"_What_ are you talking about!? Why are we fighting? I didn't mean anything by it!" Cornelius was becoming frustrated.

"I never said you did mean anything by it. I only said you should choose your words more carefully!" Franny stubbornly continued.

"Please, do not fight. Do not fight because of us," one of the women spoke up timidly.

"We're sorry," Franny turned to apologize. "We didn't mean to act so rudely in front of you."

"You should not fight behind us either," another spoke.

"Well, that's very philosophical," Cornelius complimented, although he was a little confused by how everything had started in the first place.

"And I'm sorry, too, Cornelius," Franny apologized to her husband. "I was still a little frazzled by something that happened with Wilbur before you showed up."

"What happened?" he asked with concern.

"Our son was acting like a teenage _boy_ that's what happened," her emphasis on the word boy made her point very clear to Cornelius.

"I see, well do you think I should have a talk with…" Cornelius was cut off as Billie entered the room, causing a stir among the eight milk maids.

"Wilhelmina!" they all exclaimed at once as Billie came rushing over.

"Oh my! My heart was dancing at the thought of seeing a yak for the first time in so many years but now it is soaring!" Billie exclaimed in response. "Cornelius, Franny, these are my cousins from back in my country! I haven't seen them since before moving here as a girl."

"You have eight maid cousins?" Cornelius asked curiously, but was ribbed by Franny as a warning to watch his choice in words. "I mean, what brings you here?"

Billie laughed. "They aren't maid maids. They are only milk maids. They grew up on the family yak farm. This is so exciting. Vwe vwill have so much to talk about! And I can't vwait to taste yak's milk again!"

"Why don't we have some with lunch," Franny suggested, eliciting a clamor from Wilbur who had rejoined the conversation just in time to overhear the proposition.

"Vwith all of us vworking it vwill only take an hour to remove all of the yak hairs and then vwe can drink to our hearts content," Billie replied excitedly and her cousins nodded.

"Yak hairs?!" Wilbur asked with a gulp, suddenly losing all appetite whatsoever. "And I thought eggs were bad enough," Wilbur whined as he slumped his shoulders and walked towards his room in a sickened haze.


	9. How Many Ladies Can One Robot Handle?

**A/N - **I promised myself that I wouldn't let anymore Tallulah and Carl interaction happen but then last night when I was writing this, me and Robin (doodlegirll) started talking about all of the Tallulah and Carl interactions in the movie and I couldn't stop it from creeping into this chapter! I'm so sorry to those who think I'm completely nuts :P I hope I was able to keep my fingers in check at least a little bit. Other than that, hope it's enjoyable. Only 3 more chapters to go. Happy Christmas Eve Day!

* * *

Chapter 9 

Wilbur made his way to the lower level of his bedroom. He headed toward his door, but stopped when he suddenly noticed that Carl was hiding behind one of his bean bags. "Carl, what are you doing?"

"Shh!" Carl hushed sharply.

"Don't shush me! Why are you hiding in my room?"

"Dancing ladies," Carl answered with a whisper.

"Dancing ladies?" Wilbur had no clue what his mechanical friend was talking about.

"Yes, now keep it down or they'll hear you. There are nine ladies dancing around out there and they all want me to dance with them!"

"And that's bad? Come on, Carl. What happened to your dream of being a ladies robot or making the teapot whistle? Or does this have to do with you know who?" Wilbur asked, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

"I don't know any who's," Carl answered sarcastically. "And this has to do with the fact that there are NINE different ladies and EACH of them wants me to dance with them and I'm only ONE robot!"

"Okay, okay, don't short circuit. Just tell them to take a number," Wilbur suggested flippantly.

"Boy, I can't wait until you start dating," Carl said in an annoyed manner. "You don't just tell women to take a number. And besides, I don't dance anyway so why would I…ahh!" The door opened and the nine ladies came dancing in one by one, all dancing ballet. "No ladies, please!" Carl cried as they surrounded him, pulling him this way and that between them.

"You didn't say they were dancing ballet," Wilbur said, not helping matters.

"Tell them to stop!" Carl extended his neck above the ladies and said to Wilbur.

"And why would they listen to me?" Wilbur asked.

"Well, do something!"

"I'll go find dad. In the meantime, no dancing in my room!" Wilbur commanded and left in a hurry.

------------

"Slow down, Wilbur," Cornelius said with a slight laugh, trying to understand what his son was saying.

"I said, Carl is being forced to dance ballet with nine different ladies at once…and what's worse, to no music!" Wilbur exclaimed.

"This I have to see," Cornelius laughed again.

"Yeah, me too!" Laszlo, who was also in the lab, said and they followed Wilbur out.

Sure enough, Carl was in the foyer as all of the nine ladies danced around, dragging him this way and that as they did. "Do you ever stop?" he tried to ask but they just didn't respond to anything it seemed.

"Carl, what's going on?" Franny, Billie and Tallulah asked as they passed by together.

"They won't stop dancing!" Carl answered frantically.

"You mean that you got nine ladies a dancing for your gift?" Billie asked in confusion.

"Apparently," Carl was pushed out of the midst of the dancers and straight into Tallulah and Franny. Tallulah helped him steady himself. "Thanks. I don't understand why I got nine dancing ladies. I never even asked for one."

"_Carl_…" Wilbur corrected.

"Okay, I might have asked for one, but I never meant something like this."

"Just tell them to stop," Franny suggested.

"They don't listen," Carl replied quickly. "They just keep dancing and pulling me back…" Carl was cut short as two of the ladies pulled him back into the dance, although he attempted to hold on to anything he could for dear life, but it didn't work. "Okay, I guess I'm dancing again."

"Poor Carl," Billie said with pity evident in her voice.

"Not if it's what he asked for. In that case, he got what he deserves," Tallulah responded coldly.

"None of us have asked for any of these gifts. Someone was probably just trying to help Carl in the female department and went a little overboard," Franny said in Carl's defense.

"I'll say," Tallulah said, crossing her arms as she did.

"I say vwe help him somehow. No man or robot can handle that many vwomen at one time," Billie insisted.

"But how do we do that?" Tallulah asked.

"I know," Franny said, an idea coming to her. She pushed her way into the group of dancers and began dancing alongside them, much to Cornelius' amusement, as he had already guessed her plan. Before long, she had pushed the ladies aside and had taken to dancing with Carl instead, trying to guide him to safety. However, it didn't last long because he was soon stolen away from his new dance partner and in the arms of one of the other ladies again.

This time, Billie and Tallulah took to the notion and joined the cause. The three women competed with the dancers for Carl as a partner and attempted to share him back and forth between them until the ladies would give up. Unfortunately, this didn't work so they then began forming a human chain in hopes to get him out that way, but again the dancing ladies wouldn't hear of it. Everything they tried failed, all while some of the rest of the family looked on.

"Okay, this is getting absolutely ridiculous!" Tallulah finally exclaimed. "Listen, ladies, give it a break! Go find nine lords leaping somewhere."

"And if they come tomorrow, there'll be ten for you to fight over," Wilbur joked.

Suddenly the ladies stopped dancing and looked at one another eagerly, whispering amongst themselves. "You can still dance," Cornelius interjected. "Just don't force Carl to anymore."

The ladies sighed in unison and nodded. "Yes! Freedom! Thank you everyone!" Carl moved as far away from the dancers as he could.

"Sooo…" Wilbur asked wryly, "what has this gift taught you?"

"I'm not really sure, but I can tell you this, from now on I'm just fine with _not_ making the teapot whistle," Carl answered and everyone laughed.

"That's the spirit, Carl," Wilbur cheered. "Who needs girls anyways?"

"I'd like to hear that again in a year from now," Carl said sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm a lone free ranger," Wilbur said, pointing to himself with his thumb quite smugly. "Nothing but my way or the highway for me."

"Is that so?" Carl asked as he and Cornelius and Franny exchanged a glance between them. Cornelius and Franny nodded and Carl pushed Wilbur into the midst of where the ladies had begun dancing again.

"No! I don't want to dance!" Wilbur yelled. "Help!"


	10. Have You Ever Seen A Lord, Uh, Leapin?

**A/N - **So, uh, it'll probably only take like half of a minute to read this chapter blushes Basically, it's late and I didn't have time to write it earlier due to Christmas Eve at my grandma's house and I wanted to be able to have only 11 and 12 to do tomorrow. And then there's the fact that it's based on a character that is probably the least developed character in the whole Robinson clan in my opinion. And although we don't know if Joe has ever gotten out of his recliner or spoken (since he doesn't in the film) I just opted with the idea that it's such a rare occasion that it leaves folks flabbergasted. And for some reason, he just seems like a huge softy that would actually do something really sensitive and unmanly like this chapter shows him doing. Okay, I'll stop before this a.n. gets longer than the chapter itself!

* * *

Chapter 10 

"WILBUR!!" the sound of Cornelius' voice echoed throughout the house so that wherever his son was, he could hear him.

"Dad doesn't sound too happy," Wilbur said to himself nervously as he peeked his head out of his bedroom door just a little.

"He'll be even angrier if you don't go see what he wants," Franny warned her son as she walked by. "Come on, I'll go with you."

As they neared the center of the house, they had to dodge as a man in tights came leaping in front of them. "Oh no…you're kidding right!" Wilbur couldn't believe his eyes.

"Wilbur, do you care to explain?" Cornelius asked in frustration.

"What do you mean?" Wilbur asked.

"You know exactly what I mean. 10 lords a leaping? You mentioned this yesterday. How did you know?" Cornelius demanded an answer.

"I didn't! Honestly! I was just making a joke about what Billie said. Did you ask her?" Wilbur defended himself as best as he could.

"Yes, I did. She's cleared her name when she and Uncle Joe came to see what his present was," Cornelius replied.

"I'm telling you that I didn't…wait. Did you say that these ten men in tights are for Joe?" Wilbur asked in disbelief.

"Son, there are many things that we've learned from these gifts. And now we know a little more about Joe," Cornelius said.

"Dad, that was the worst explanation ever," Wilbur said bluntly.

"It wasn't meant to be an explanation. Only Joe can do that, son."

"What? Give a horrible explanation?"

Cornelius sighed, "Maybe it'll be easier if you stand there for just a second." Cornelius walked over to Joe and Billie, obviously asked something because Joe looked at Wilbur with a smile and then nodded to Cornelius. Cornelius then headed back over to his son. "Just watch and learn, Wilbur."

The ten lords leaped around majestically as the nine ladies from the previous day began dancing around gracefully, and suddenly they parted in a beautiful pattern revealing Joe actually out of his recliner and dancing ballet as though he had done it all of his life. They danced for several minutes and in the final bit, Joe returned to his recliner as the dancers encircled and danced around him while he spun in perfect rhythm to their movements.

"Wow…" Wilbur was practically speechless as the dance came to an end. Not only had he never seen Uncle Joe out of his recliner that he could remember, he had also never known that he could dance ballet. He quickly ran over to where Joe had rejoined Billie. "How did you…your recliner…you…wow!"

"Isn't he vwonderful?" Billie said admiringly about her husband. "Joe used to be a dancer vwehn vwe vwere younger. I remember how he first captured my heart vwith his fancy footvwork."

"I never would have even guessed it," Wilbur still couldn't believe it. "I guess I always just imagined Uncle Joe in a recliner as a kid and teenager too. No offense."

"None taken," Joe said in a very soft and kind voice, causing Wilbur's eyes to nearly fall completely from his face.

"You…you…excuse me for just a second…" Wilbur fainted at the sound of Uncle Joe's voice.

"Well, what do you know," Cornelius laughed as he and Franny joined Joe and Billie. "This is almost funnier than yesterday when he was dancing."

"Actually, some of that was just painful to watch. Joe, maybe you should give Wilbur dancing lessons," Franny suggested.

Wilbur suddenly jumped up. "I'm NOT learning ballet!" He then ran out of the room as fast as he could yelling, "Nope! Not happening! La la la! Not listening!"


	11. One Order of Pipers Pipin' Hot?

**A/N - **And the shortness continues but that's probably because I'm saving the long spiel for the final chapter...which I promise will be up later this evening! Other than that: MERRY CHRISTMAS! Or Happy Holidays if you prefer : ) Hope everyone got at least one gift that they really wanted even if you didn't get 12 days worth of outrageous gifts with unusual value ;P Power to the River Dance : D

* * *

Chapter 11 

Wilbur returned home from visiting Lewis to wish him a Merry Christmas, surprisingly, with Cornelius' permission. As he landed the time machine in the garage and got out, he could hear the sound of bagpipes coming from somewhere in the house. "What's with the bagpipes?" Wilbur began following the sound of the music until he reached his mother's music room. "I never knew mom's frogs knew how to play bagpipes."

Wilbur opened the door and sure enough there were eleven bullfrogs on the stage playing bagpipes in the most beautiful arrangement Wilbur had ever heard. He almost felt as if he were being mesmerized by the sound of the bagpipes. And apparently, he wasn't the only one who felt mesmerized by the sound of the music. First, the partridge flew into the room, having been let out of its cage by Lucille after it had begun twittering and flapping insanely. Next, the two turtle doves flew into the room after also being let out of their cage by Lefty. The birds flew around twittering along with the bagpipes, bringing Wilbur out of his trance. "What's going on here?" he wondered aloud. He heard the clucking of chickens as the three French hens entered the room followed by the four calling birds. "If the rings come in on their own after me and grandma burned them, I'm out of here!" Of course they didn't, but neither did any of the other gifts. "I guess the geese can't if they're lying on their eggs," Wilbur said thoughtfully. "But where's the swans, the yaks or the dancers? Where's the maid milking cousins or the fancy foot prancers?" Wilbur paused for a moment. "Wait, why am I rhyming!?"

Franny came into the room. "Hey, sweetie. I see you're enjoying my gift. Aren't they great? And just in time for them to entertain us all at the Christmas Eve party for Robinson Industries tonight."

"Yeah, but do you notice something…unusual?" Wilbur asked as he looked around at the birds.

Franny also looked around. "I guess they just really like the music too."

"It's like it has some hypnotic power over them or something," Wilbur said. "I think it had me caught up in it too. It's almost like that pied piper story or something."

"Don't be silly, Wilbur. I highly doubt that's the case," Franny laughed at the notion. However, she had to admit that the birds were acting bizarrely.

"Wat's dis. Frankie's bein' replaced? Is dat it?" Frankie asked as he and the band came into the room.

"Of course not," Franny said. "But they are pretty good aren't they?"

"I guess they're swingin' enough for nutin' but some pipers," Frankie answered unenthusiastically. "Come on, fellas, let's teach 'em how to really swing wit a band." The band began playing their own music and the bag piping bullfrogs picked it up quickly and followed along.

"Hey, that's a pretty nice sound," Cornelius said as he entered the music lounge. "Are those bagpipes?"

"Yeah, my Christmas gift," Franny answered.

"That's wonderful. I remember how you used to have a thing for bagpipes when we were kids."

"Only because of that time in the 8th grade when our music class went on a field trip to see River Dance," Franny said with a laugh as she recalled the experience. "Those bagpipers were really good."

"I know, I know. It's all you talked about for days on days," Cornelius also remembered. "But then you got a bagpipe for Christmas…and…well…" Cornelius didn't finish.

"What happened?" Wilbur asked with wide eyes.

"Basically, I was really bad," Franny admitted.

"Bad is putting it nicely," Cornelius said nervously, his hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Okay, okay, so I was horrible. But someone could have at least told me how bad I was instead of letting me think I was really good," Franny crossed her arms and pouted a little.

"Gaston told you at least three or four times," Cornelius interjected.

"Yeah, but why would I believe him?" Franny had never believed a word Gaston ever said when they were children. "Instead, I woke up one morning to find my bagpipe completely slashed through the middle and mama said it was too expensive to have it fixed. I was devastated!"

"I remember that too," Cornelius replied.

"I never did find out who did that to my bagpipes. Gaston and Art both denied it, so maybe it was mom or dad," Franny said with a sigh.

"Maybe," Cornelius said in such a seemingly guilty manner that Wilbur eyed him suspiciously.

"Oh well, mama sat me aside after the fact and you had the tape of me playing and I was just so horrible that it was practically an injustice to have let me continue," Franny giggled. "And I used to make you listen to me practice! You must have really loved me to never complain or say a word about it," Franny said admiringly.

"Well, I wasn't going to risk losing my future wife now was I?" Cornelius asked hypothetically.

"Again…" Wilbur added mischievously, recounting all the times he had visited his dad's younger self only to find him and his mom's younger self arguing.

"_Wilbur_…" Cornelius warned.

"Fine, I'm going. I was going to leave anyhow," Wilbur retorted as he turned to leave the room. "You two walking down memory lane is a pda fest waiting to happen. No thanks."


	12. Drumming To The Beat Of A Father's Heart

**A/N - **Well, all stories come to an end...well, unless they're abandoned that is : P Anyways, here's the last installment of The 12 Gifts. I want to thank everyone who reviewed and inspired me throughout the story. It's been a fun and crazy ride and I almost can't believe I finished it before Christmas was over! But now I can breathe a sigh of relief much like the Robinsons who are probably glad that there are no gifts on the way! Of course, thanks to Robin (doodlegirll) I'm inclined to belive that if the Robinsons were real, they'd break out into...well, Wilbur would break out into the song, The 12 Days After Christmas! Hope this chapter isn't unclimatic and too boring. I probably should have ended it with humor, but in the sentimental spirit of the holidays...just couldn't bring myself to do it. Again, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews. It's been fun : )

* * *

Chapter 12 

"What a dream," Wilbur said as he woke up and rubbed his eyes. As he sat up, he realized what day it was. "Yes! It's Christmas. I wonder if I got what I asked for!" Wilbur ran out of his room, not caring that he was still in his pajamas. As he neared the Christmas tree, he couldn't believe his eyes. There were twelve drummers lined up. Wilbur stopped in his tracks and they began playing skillfully.

Cornelius and Franny came up behind their son and watched and listened as well. "I guess your gift was left for last," Cornelius said pondering the matter.

"Yeah, I guess," Wilbur said, still listening to the drummers play as the rest of the family joined the private concert. "But wait…" Wilbur began thinking long and hard as everyone looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "You didn't get a gift, Dad!"

The entire family gasped and every head turned towards Cornelius as they realized that it was true. "Didn't I? I got the best gift of all," Cornelius said sentimentally but nobody understood what he meant. "I got the gift of being able to give the gifts." Everyone gasped again.

"So that's what Lewis meant yesterday when he said that he had a feeling that today would be quite a shock for all of us. How long did you plan this, Dad?" Wilbur asked again.

"Well, I first wrote down the plan Christmas Eve morning, yes the same one that you went and visited me yesterday," Cornelius began. "You see, you all gave me the most wonderful Christmas present ever…a Christmas finally with a family because you all taught me to keep moving forward. I promised that I would make that up to every single one of you someday. So I've kept that promise written down along with the plan and over the years I've selected gifts that I thought would be sentimental or important to you each someday."

"But why?" Franny asked her husband, her curiosity burning inside.

"I just told you," Cornelius responded.

"No, I mean, why did you select the gifts that you did. Honey, some of them were just so…"

"Random!" Wilbur finished.

"Yes, I guess they did seem that way didn't they? But it's because I've learned over the years that the uniqueness of this family is what I love most about it and that's what I wanted to highlight with the gifts. I wanted to choose things that seemed strange at first glance, but at a closer glance shows the value of them. Almost like when I first met you all as a boy. At first I didn't understand but as I got to know you, I realized how wonderful you all were and how much you meant to me," Cornelius tried to explain.

"Well, thank you for the partridge and pear tree, son," Bud said. "It made me feel young again."

"I know. That's why I selected it. I'll never forget the day as a boy that you told me that you once had a pear tree while we were walking through the store and I picked up a can of pears."

"That's right! I did!" Bud recalled. "And I said how much I missed having that friendly tree. But, uh, what about the partridge?"

"Well, the man selling the tree had a partridge he was trying to get rid of because his son didn't want it anymore, so I just took it. But as I started thinking about it, I realized that you're a lot like a partridge. You're simple but you really know how to make the most out of a home," Cornelius complimented his father.

"Thank you," Bud wiped a tear from his eye with the palm of his hand.

"And you all know the sentiment behind the turtle doves. After all, they're still on their second honeymoon," Cornelius joked, eliciting a shudder from Laszlo, Tallulah and Wilbur. "And then the French hens…"

"No need to explain. You probably remember that conversation the night before your wedding don't you?" Art asked, speaking up first.

"Yes, that's exactly right. When you told me that I better take care of Franny the same way a mother hen takes care of its chicks."

"Art, that's so sweet," Franny had never known about the comment.

"And then later the conversation turned towards your dream to make an egg-topping pizza," Cornelius reminded.

"By Jove, he's right! And two days ago I perfected my first recipe!"

"What about me?" Laszlo asked impatiently.

"You're such a colorful person, Laszlo," Cornelius first complimented. "But only when you have nothing but amazing colors to select from."

"I guess it's true. That's why I always ask Wilbur to scan items for me to choose the colors from," Laszlo admitted.

"I wanted you to see the beauty in things that take much more observation," Cornelius continued. "Therefore, four blackbirds that to some people are nothing but nuisances."

"Well, I did paint them, and I submitted them to an art gallery almost a week back, and yesterday they called and said it was the best work I had submitted yet! They want more!" Laszlo said excitedly.

"How did you find the rings?" Lucille asked quietly.

"It wasn't easy but I found them and that's what matters," was Cornelius' only explanation. "And that's why I've been keeping singing Christmas trees in the house, Wilbur. I knew that it would work. So every time you buried it or destroyed it, that's why I had to keep buying new ones!"

"I already know mine," Gaston kept the conversation going. "The baby shower…right?"

"Mm-hmm. You said that you wondered what it would be like to be a dad. And then you said how much you doubted that you'd make a good one because you doubted that you could ever care for anything so weak or fragile," Cornelius revealed.

"But it's not as hard as I thought," Gaston admitted thoughtfully.

"Not hard at all," Cornelius laughed. "And it's because you had it in you all along. You're much more sensitive than anyone gives you credit for. More than you give credit for yourself." Gaston remained silent, thinking it over as he did, bringing the explanation for Tallulah's gift next. "Billie basically already pegged it. When you were a little girl, you always said you wanted to grow up to be a beautiful swan."

"I did!?" Tallulah blushed, not remembering it since she had been so young. "But I don't always feel beautiful," she sighed. "Some days I feel too skinny and other days I feel too fat and other days I hide behind my stylish clothes…"

"I know. And that's why I wanted to show you that you have grown up into a beautiful swan and it's okay to finally believe it. But even more, you should know that you were never an ugly duckling," Cornelius complimented his cousin with a warm tone.

"Really?" Tallulah asked with a huge smile and sparkle in her eyes. She turned around to see a mirror that Carl had produced from his robotic innards. "I'm a swan," she whispered, seeing her beautifully colored hair and eyes and other features.

"You don't need to explain my gift," Billie said, giving Cornelius time to catch my breath. "I've missed the old country for so many years. And I've always reminisced about how I used to spend my summers vwith my cousins on their lovely yak farm. Thank you, Cornelius."

"You're welcome, Aunt Billie," Cornelius gave her a small hug. He skipped Carl for the moment and went straight to Joe. "And of course there's the reason why you gave up the old country. Because you saw the sweetness and gentleness of Uncle Joe."

"It is true. It's the reason vwhy I have stayed so many years by his side. I love him more than any old country," Billie said with a smile.

"Uncle Joe may not say it in too many words, but he knows how lucky he is to have Billie and dancing is how they met to begin with."

"Also true. Vwe vwere both in New York. He vwas there to audition for a dance scholarship and I vwas there because of a train convention. Vwe met in the lobby of the Grand Marquois Hotel and it vwas like vwe say back home, love from first glance from far away," Billie sighed at the memory.

"Um, I was skipped," Carl didn't mean to be rude, but couldn't help but wonder why he was skipped.

"Oh, well, that's because your gift was for pure entertainment purposes only," Cornelius responded.

"Alright, Dad!" Wilbur cheered.

"Swell," Carl crossed his arms and looked away.

"I'm just kidding, Carl. Maybe it was slightly for that reason," he admitted. "But I wanted to show you that you didn't need to make the teapot whistle to be happy. I think you have a lot that you don't even realize and you should know that it takes more than muscles to be a man…well, robot of a man anyway."

"Great, so mine was a lesson," Carl said unenthusiastically.

"So was mine basically!" Laszlo protested.

"And mine," Tallulah said, still holding the mirror that Carl had given her.

"I guess a lesson is what I needed then," Carl admitted with a sigh. "And what a lesson it was. I don't think I'll ever dance again!"

"Me either," Wilbur shouted.

"And the bagpipes were because of my loving them but never being any good as a girl?" Franny asked.

"Yes…and no. I did it," Cornelius finally admitted.

"Did what?"

"I destroyed your bagpipe," Franny gasped at the revelation. "Your mother did give me permission and actually let me into the house to destroy it since she didn't have the heart."

"And how did you have the heart!?" Franny exclaimed.

"Please don't be angry. I wanted to love you but that stupid bagpipe was really testing my patience. I almost didn't want to love you it was so bad," Cornelius tried his best to explain to his wife the reason.

"It was pretty bad," Gaston added.

After a moment of silence, Franny let out a laugh. "I guess you're right. And you didn't want to hurt my feelings or risk our friendship at the time. So it was you."

"Yes, it was me. And I've felt guilty ever since for not telling you the truth so I just had to give you the bagpipe band that you wanted," Cornelius said.

"You remember!" Franny said excitedly. "I only told you once that if I had been good at bagpipes that I would have taught my frogs to play!"

"And now you don't have to teach them, and maybe they'll be able to teach you…maybe," Cornelius chuckled nervously.

"Oh, Cornelius, thank you!" She started to kiss him but was interrupted by Wilbur's protests.

"Hey, now, none of that! I want to know about my gift. It's obviously twelve drummers drumming," Wilbur demanded an explanation.

"That's easy. You're the reason I was able to come to the future in the first place. A drummer keeps the rhythm. A drummer keeps the rest of the band going. And you're the one who kept me moving forward even when I didn't want to. You're a vital part of this whole crazy family. You keep us young, you keep us laughing, and yet you keep us sane. You're a wonderful leader, Wilbur. You'll embrace it someday. But for now, why don't you just lead us this Christmas?" Cornelius motioned for one of the drummers. "Merry Christmas, son."

Wilbur stood in awe as the drummer handed him his drum and drumsticks. Without thinking, he began to beat the drum. It wasn't the best sound in the world, but quickly the other drummers began tapping their own drums quietly. Next, the bullfrogs began playing their bagpipes. Next, the lords leapt into the room followed by the ladies dancing. Tallulah's swans flew into the room gracefully followed by the other birds, with the exception of the geese, and followed slowly behind by the French hens who clucked along with the music.

"Now _that's_ a hypnotic leader," Franny said with a smile, wiping a motherly tear from her eyes as she watched her son lead the menagerie of Christmas gifts.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Cornelius replied.

"You didn't have to," Franny looked at him lovingly. "Your gifts were better than any words you could have said." She looked back at the family, watching as the rest of the family joined in on the Christmas celebration. Bud and Lucille were dancing, as were Joe and Billie and even Carl was dancing again. Tallulah skated around with her swans while Laszlo flew around with his birds. And Gaston had left to go check up on his geese while Art fed his hens. And in the midst of it all, Wilbur playing his heart out as it appeared.

"And like I said," Cornelius watched on with a smile, his eyes just like Franny's resting on their son and seeing the way he really did seem to keep the rhythm of it all. "I got the best gift of all..." he remembered his first Christmas as a Robinson and saw how that family had now grown and he let out a deep sigh of contentment, "…a family."


End file.
